


A Scholar and a Neighbor

by Pastafarian



Category: The Wandering Inn - pirateaba
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:08:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22866097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastafarian/pseuds/Pastafarian
Summary: A quick flash fiction featuring a couple no longer young who have found their niche in a new world.
Kudos: 3





	A Scholar and a Neighbor

When the man in the comfortable chair judged the moment right, he intervened; when he did so forcefully enough, sometimes people even listened. “Enough.” That, it turned out, wasn’t forceful enough. “[Hush]!”

That sufficed, and he smiled at the young couple sitting in his office as they glared first at each other and then at him. “You were both about to move past arguing into fighting. Do not make me force silence upon you again.”  _ Because I can’t; I can only do that once per context _ , he didn’t say, and instead slid a slate and a piece of chalk in front of each of them. “Now. Silently. Write your partner’s position in your own words upon the slate.” He looked at them with a genial,  _ well, I’m waiting _ expression as they stared at him and then subsided.

The strategy was simple. You wrote their position on the slate, you flipped it over and passed it to them, they did the same, you both wrote your own positions, flipped it, read it, passed it, read it. Thus you would get the exercise of seeing their side of the matter, both of themselves and of you; it didn’t resolve problems, but it could bring the true problem to light instead of letting it fester under unrelated grievances, emotions, and the shroud of associated minor matters.

This particular couple, he thought, had promise. They had both put some thought into the matter before writing, and when they moved to reading, they were both taken aback and thoughtful, confused even.  _ Confusion is the starting point for insight. To learn, you must first realize you do not understand. _ He’d seen something to that effect written, and even without context it had rung true to him.

“I advise,” he said softly, once they were done with the process, “that you both leave in peace, and stay apart for one day. Think. Meditate. After that, perhaps you will know things you did not know; this may not change anything, or it might. That is in your hands.”

Miraculously, they did. Well, less than miraculously, if he thought about it, which he constantly did in order to refine his approaches and techniques.

“You don’t think it will help, do you.” He spoke to an empty office, and a shadow drifted out of the back of it, smiling. “You never think it will help.”

“You don’t either, my dear.” Her fingers tangled in his thinning hair, pulling gently to tilt his head back and kiss his forehead.

“No. Perhaps. These have more of a chance than most.”

“You say that a lot.”

“Mmmm.” Non-committal, but if she wanted something more, she would have to stop massaging his scalp. They spent a long moment like that, before she stopped and he spoke again. “It is written that we should do what we can, even if it does not succeed every time.”

“Faith. In possibility, at least.”

“We’re in a world with magic.” His voice was as wry as hers. “I might as well have faith, in a world where my wife the biologist can become a Lifemage and watch an enzyme catalyze a reaction with her own eyes, and from this make wonders.” He’d been diabetic, before he’d fallen through the world and for twenty seven days afterwards.

“I did what I had to.” This was the smile that he’d fallen in love with, and he reached up and kissed it, grinning at her. She’d smiled that smile the day she’d figured out how to cure him, the first time since they’d found themselves here. “I wasn’t going to be left a single mother in a strange world.”

“Speaking of.”

“She and that boy she runs around with found another secret room.” There was worry in her eyes, but it didn’t touch her voice for the pride; their daughter had already returned, then. “She’ll tell you all about it, I’m sure.”   
  
“She is clever, and surrounds herself with brilliance, and fierce.”

“More clever than wise and more fierce than strong. They wrote a catalog.” Not so much an admission as an ironic reversal. “Sun’s setting. I got bread, and we still have candles and salt.”

Noam rose carefully from his chair, testing his weight on his right ankle before committing to it, seeing his wife see his caution. “They left me a good bottle, or so they say. For the blessings.”

“For the blessings.” They looked at each other, grinning quietly in the darkening evening, and a [Rabbi] and a [Lifemage] walked arm in arm towards Shabbat.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, got bit by a ficbug, wrote the fic to get it out of my head. Hope you enjoy, and go read The March North by Graydon Saunders (Google Play Books), because why not.


End file.
